


Too Darn Hot

by edibleflowers



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-18
Updated: 2012-09-18
Packaged: 2017-11-14 13:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lack of air conditioning makes Lance cranky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Darn Hot

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an eleven-hour power outage in which I came to truly appreciate the wonders of air conditioning. Also, this is for Jamie, who encouraged me muchly. Needless to say, this was written long before Lance came out.

"It's hot."

"Yeah."

"Joey."

"Yeah."

"I'm hot."

"I know."

Five hours the power had been out now, and Lance was ready to scream. He didn't usually get petulant and childish. He was patient. He was capable of waiting. He could handle it. He was calm.

He was fucking hot and tired.

"Joe--"

"I _know_ , Lance."

Joey was taking it rather well, Lance thought, despite the fact that they were essentially trapped in a hotel room with nothing to do. They had some emergency candles, so Lance had been able to do paperwork for a while, and Joey had been reading some thriller that he'd abandoned on the bus earlier that day.

But even Lance had his limits. If he was home, he'd go for a drive, or dunk his head in a bucket of ice. He was used to hot Mississippi nights, but this was ridiculous. They couldn't open the windows, so there wasn't a breath of moving air in the room, and with security nuts right now because of something that had gone on with the fans outside -- Lance didn't know, wasn't sure he wanted to -- they couldn't even leave the hotel.

"Take a cold shower," Joey suggested, out of the blue.

Not a bad idea, and one he'd already thought of, if not for one thing. "I, uh."

"What, man?"

"I don't want to be in there alone," he said, all in a rush.

"What?" Joey rolled over on the bed, looking up below a beetled brow at Lance, who was sitting at the desk of their room. In the candlelight, the sweat shimmered on his face.

If Lance had felt petulant before, now he was feeling positively rotten. "I don't like dark bathrooms," he said. "You know that kid's game where you turn off the lights and chant the thing, Mary Whatever, I can't even remember it now, like twenty times or something? Bloody Mary, that was it."

"I think so." Joey didn't remember it at all, Lance could tell from the befuddled look in his eyes, but at least he was paying attention to him now.

"Well, my friend and I did it one time when I was ten, and it scared the living crap out of me, and, well."

"Oh, so that's why you won't ever have the lights off in a closed space," Joey said, a grin quirking his mouth.

"Yeah."

"Come on, then. I'll bring a candle in there and I'll sit with it while you shower."

Lance had half a mind to be stunned at his sudden good fortune, but he wasn't about to question it. "Okay," he agreed, and got up, grabbing his sleep shorts and a muscle shirt from his bag.

He took off his clothes and got in the shower first, drawing the curtain before calling that it was okay for Joey to come in. The light bobbed in, flickering, as he started the water, humming to himself.

"You know I can't read in here," Joey commented, sounding mildly annoyed.

"Sure, why not?" Lance turned on the water, letting out an audible wince as the coldness of it slammed into him. _Goddamn_ , that was more than he could handle right now. He turned the tap to the left, wanting just a little more heat, remembering something he'd once heard -- _if you take a hot shower when it's hot, then you get cooler afterwards because of the temperature on your skin, or -- something_? Man, his brain was shorting out tonight.

Of course, part of that might have something to do with the fact that Joey was on the other side of the shower curtain.

"Cause the steam will get the pages all wet and stuff, dude."

"You've never read a book while you were in the tub?" Lance asked, chuckling. Ahh, that was better -- warm water was perfect, and it was still had just enough coolness to keep him from sporting an erection. Which was a very likely possibility at this particular moment, and he didn't really need Joey to be aware of it, not to mention that he couldn't take care of it with Joey there.

"True," Joey muttered. "You gonna be okay for two seconds?"

"Sure," Lance said. _I can handle two seconds_. As the light dipped from the room, he clenched his teeth, reached for the shampoo. He was feeling a lot better already, although he hoped that Joey wouldn't ask for a turn in the shower next. That image would definitely -- fuck, yeah, that did it. He grimaced as the familiar ache settled into him.

 _I never used to like guys_ , he thought, somewhat petulantly. He hadn't, either. Back in school, even in the first couple of years of the group -- hell, even now -- he'd always held a deep-rooted appreciation for all things female. He still held a wistful fondness for his first girlfriend, with whom he'd had to break up when 'N Sync had gone to Europe; they'd decided a long-distance relationship couldn't work, and he'd cried, and so had she. He still kept in touch with her.

Then something had happened, something that made no sense to him. He couldn't explain how he'd become attracted to Joey. When his eyes had started roaming to him. Was it when Joey dyed his hair red? Could be. The different hair had definitely made Lance look at him with new eyes. Maybe it was the girls, because he knew there was a point when he'd started to wonder what made Joey so attractive to so many women. He knew that a lot of women were attracted to all of them, but Joey wasn't "the cute one" or "the heartthrob", he didn't have the standard handsome model face, so what was it about him?

Lance found himself caressing his erection without even thinking about it. He'd been thinking about it a lot lately, what it would be like to kiss Joey. If it would be like kissing a girl, if it would be different, hard and forceful, and what Joey would taste like--

"Sorry I took so long," Joey's voice came floating through the shower curtain. Lance gasped, startled. He hadn't even noticed the candlelight enter the bathroom again. "You okay in there?"

"Yeah, I'm -- I'm fine."

"Want me to wash your back?"

Joey's tone was jovial and light, and Lance wasn't sure how to interpret it. Play it casual? Pretend to be shocked? He had no idea what to say.

"Uh, Lance -- I mean--"

"Jeez, no, Joey, I'm sorry, I--"

They both laughed, and Lance grabbed a washcloth, soaping it up and running it over his skin. "I'm just a little freaked about, you know. The light," he said, trying to laugh it off.

"Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary--"

"Shut the fuck up," Lance drawled, his tone far from insulting. Joey laughed.

"Don't worry, man, if anything comes in here to get you, I'll protect you."

"My hero." Lance stepped under the spray to rinse off. The water felt a little too chilly, still, so he cranked up the heat again. _Maybe I should have said yes. Maybe I think too fucking much_. "Hand me a towel?" he asked.

A moment later, a hand thrust between the curtain and the wall, a white towel in its grasp. "Thanks." Lance reached for it, thrown momentarily off-balance when Joey didn't let go. "Joe--"

"Gotta earn it," Joey said, laughing.

"Come on, Joey." Lance tugged a little harder. "This isn't funny--" He yanked at it, and suddenly Joey came at him hard, the candle winking out, water pouring down on both of them, the shower curtain pulled half off its rings and Joey pressed against Lance -- naked wet Lance -- against the wall of the shower.

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Joey breathed, pulling back.

"Yeah -- yeah," Lance nodded. He'd just had the breath knocked out of him, more startled than anything. He felt himself beginning to heat with embarrassment, because fuck, he was still hard, and Joey couldn't not notice it now.

"I'm, here." Joey stepped awkwardly out of the tub, grabbed another towel, and handed it to Lance, casually, and Lance felt an immense surge of gratefulness at Joey's cool demeanor. "Sorry. I'll get another candle."

Lance shut off the water and toweled off, yanking his shorts up -- with a little difficulty, though that problem was thankfully beginning to ease -- before Joey returned.

"You sure you're okay?" Joey asked, reaching out to run a light hand over Lance's limp hair.

"Yeah." Lance jerked away, almost instinctively.

"I didn't damage the goods, did I?"

That was in enough of a joking tone that Lance could smile back. "Nope, all intact."

"What had you so happy?"

"You." _Oh, fuck, I did not just say that_ \-- "I -- I mean--" What the fuck? How the hell had that slipped out? "I was thinking about that girl you were talking to this morning--"

"Lance?"

"Fuck." Lance pushed past Joey, yanking his muscle shirt on, his cheeks burning. "Fuck," he swore again, softly, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be out of this hotel room, out of this hotel, somewhere where he could hide his face and never have to think about this moment ever again -- Alaska, maybe, or somewhere in Antarctica--

"Lance, stop it. What's wrong?"

He would have to take the caring tone now, Lance thought savagely. "Nothing," he said. "Just -- I'm gonna try to sleep, okay?"

"All right. I'm gonna take a shower. But."

Lance turned around, still flushed, to see the strangest look on Joey's face. His dark eyes were a mixture of confusion, surprise, and something else Lance had never expected to see: desire.

"You do the same thing to me."

Lance froze, the world seeming to spin around him, dizzying, throwing him off balance.

"What?" he whispered, not sure he'd heard Joey right.

"You, um. I think about you like that."

He didn't know what to say now. He couldn't move at all, so when Joey came up to him, one hand warm and caressing on his shoulder, he didn't react, because he was convinced that the moment had to be occurring in some bizarre dream, now. Because only in a dream would Joey look down at him with those compassionate, sweet eyes; only in a dream would Joey lift his other hand to Lance's chin, his fingers rough on the whiskery barely-there goatee; only in a dream would Joey drop his eyelids, that incredibly sexy look writ deep in his eyes before he bent his head and pressed his lips to Lance's.

So that's what he tastes like, Lance thought, opening his mouth, and wondered wildly if sex in a room without air conditioning would be even hotter. He was definitely looking forward to finding out.


End file.
